AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Miri
Davis didn’t stay long after our little interlude by the bathrooms. He took his dark storm cloud with him, grumbling goodbyes to everyone else but refusing to look at me as he walked out of the bar. Prick. Still, my heart hasn’t stopped pounding in my chest, and I can’t stop thinking about the fact that Davis, my Davis, the man who has centered in nearly all of my fantasies—like, alone in my room with my vibrator fantasies—lives here. How the hell is that possible, and why didn’t I know?
Once Dani and I got through our initial awkward getting-to-know-you stage, I’d asked her about him. Just once, because I didn’t want her to know how much he turned me inside out in the short time we were together. It was embarrassing. Trying to tell someone that you were hung up on a guy you’d spent a day jammed into a car with on one of the most miserable days of your life was just too pathetic to speak out loud. Dani told me he was her nephew, and his story was sad. She teared up, said it was hard to talk about, and I felt like a dick for asking.
Now he’s here. On the island I’ve decided to make my permanent home. The world must have tilted off its axis because I’m spinning, and I don’t know how to regain my balance. It sucks that he’s as big of a dick as I remember, but also that he’s just as hot. Actually, he’s way better looking than my memory recalls, and that’s saying a whole hell of a lot.
He’s older now, obviously, but that just means his features are more chiseled. Seeing the scar that runs down from the edge of his ear to his neck, stopping just underneath his jaw, makes me want to scream. Sure, it makes him look rakish and dangerous, but I want to know how he got it. What happened? Who did that to him? It’s ridiculous, but I want to rage at them and slash at their throat to make them suffer the pain Davis must have felt. Someone cut him down and hadn’t intended for him to get back up. That much is clear. Despite his dickish attitude, I sense that he’s a fighter. He’s had to be to get through life.
Or I could be romanticizing the jerk.
I must have a sour look on my face because Rhys slides a shot across the bar at me. “Ignore him, sweetheart. He’s just in a bad mood.”
The casual use of the nickname makes me wonder if Rhys calls all girls sweetheart so he doesn’t have to remember their names. I’m guessing it’s a problem he’s run into a time or two. He’s got the kind of good looks that practically ooze sensuality. I’m sure he could crook his little finger and a whole passel of horny ladies would throw elbows to get to him.
“Is he normally nicer?” I wrinkle my nose. Not sure I believe that.
“He’s perpetually grumpy,” Lena says as she slides into the seat beside me while I’m left feeling sideways.
The moment he walked into the bar, I recognized him. That freaking connection sparked alive just like it had all those years ago and my magic is simmering beneath my skin. I’ve never forgotten the unyielding angle of his jaw, the steely indifference in his eyes that occasionally softened. He was wearing a stocking cap, just like the last time I’d seen him. The only time I’d seen him.
His hair must still be a little too long because the brown locks had curled up at the ends where the hat ended. My blood immediately warmed when I saw him, and not in the boiling way that it should have from how rude he was. No, my traitorous body got all flushed, and I ached to touch him. Until he’d spoken. Then I wanted to kick his shin. And grind all over him. I’m messed up. I know it and I’m not really mentally prepared to dive into my issues.
Rhys laughs and throws a towel over his shoulder, crossing his arms. “Yeah, pretty much. He can be an asshole, but not usually to strangers. Or maybe I’m just used to it.” He shrugs like his friend being a dick is part of his charm.
“He’s not usually this bad.” Archer looks at the door even though Davis is long gone. The pinched look on his face doesn’t look natural there, and I wonder if Davis’s attitude toward me is really that out of character.
“Aren’t you going to do your shot?”
“I can’t be the only one drunk. I just got to town.” Leaning toward Lena, I fake whisper so everyone can hear. “I don’t want Archer telling everyone I’m a drunk. It’s pretty obvious he’s got a gossiping problem.”
“Hey!” Archer plasters a wounded look on his face, but the smile that burst free proves otherwise.
“She’s got your number, Archie,” Rhys says, and Lena slaps a hand over her mouth to muffle her giggle.
Archer’s eyes linger on Lena as they take in every inch of her from head to toe. “You too, Lena?”
She simply shakes her head, too amused to respond.
“I’ll do one if everyone else does.”
Rhys gives me a crooked smile, pouring three more shots out. “Okay. Fair warning I’ve got a high tolerance.”
“Let’s do it. Archer, you getting in on this?” I crook a brow at him, but he shakes his head, whipping out his phone and taking a picture of me, Lena, and Rhys getting ready to take our shots.
“Why are you taking a picture?” Rhys rolls his eyes.
“Just taking the before pic.”
Lena peers down at her shot before shrugging and picking it up. She peers at me over the top of her glass. “You are in so much trouble, he really can hold his liquor.”
“Bottoms up.” I hold my glass up, clinking it against the other two.
Before long I’m doing a solid job of getting shit-faced although, surprise, I can actually hold my liquor, too. I think Rhys might be almost as drunk as me. Lena is most definitely wasted. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are a little glazed and unfocused. It’s sort of adorable. Everyone else left the bar a while ago and the two of them have abandoned their posts behind the bar. We’re playing a nonsense drinking game with a deck of cards Rhys pulled from somewhere. I think he’s just trying to see if I’ll pass out sitting up.
“Alright ladies, philistine.” Archer nods at Rhys, who scowls back. Lena has dreamy eyes and is actually batting her lashes at Archer, though I doubt she realizes it. “I’ve got an early morning meeting with the historical society. I’m off.”
“Ha! That’s so fancy.” I cackle like a witch.
